Fight To Restore
by sabbypandawan
Summary: Due to a fateful spell, there has been one man in every generation to defend the world against the evil threatening to destroy it. Until there was two. Kurt Hummel tried hard to fit in and never let anyone know his secret, but when Blaine Anderson comes along and flips his world on its axis, he discovers not all battles are about good and evil. (full summary inside, Slayer!Klaine)
1. Paint These Walls In Pitchfork Red

**Hi there! Welcome to my first Klaine fic ever. This will be set in the world of Buffy The Vampire Slayer, though I don't think you will need to have watched the show to understand it. Just in case there's any confusion though, I have an info page on my tumblr under stormwitha6lettername where I will be updating and explaining important terminology. I have a few chapters written up, but I think it's only fair I warn you that I won't be able to guarantee regular updates until the summer what with university and work - I'm a busy bee.**

**Full summary: ****_In a world altered by a blessing of a curse, there is one male human in every generation to defend the mortal realm against evil forces threatening to destroy it. That is, until there was suddenly two. Kurt Hummel tried hard to fit in, to never let anyone discover his secret except for those in his most private circle of friends, but when Blaine Anderson comes along and flips his world on its axis, he discovers not all battles are between good and evil. And that sometimes, they are, no matter how much you wish they weren't._**

**Warnings will include graphic violence, language, some minor character death (no Klaine, don't worry) and smut. If you're uncomfortable with any of those, I will be giving chapter-specific warnings as well and I'll try to make it so you can avoid it. For this one, only violence and language apply. There will also be time jumps, but I'll be giving you a date for each chapter so there shouldn't be any confusion.**

**Well, I hope you enjoy! Please leave a review and let me know what you liked and didn't so I can try to incorporate that in the story. Thank you!**

* * *

_**Present: September 21st, 2013**_

He was lying curled up on his side on the bed, his back turned to the door and the window. The soft wheezing and whistling of the wind outside was the only music fitting his current emotional state; meek for now, but brittle with a sense of foreboding.

He knew he should at least _try _to hate him. He knew he wasn't the person he fell in love with anymore. He knew he had to go back out there and find him, go against his very nature, and save the world once again. He was sure he would get there, too, but right now he felt he had the right to wallow in the emptiness inside of him until he started to _actually feel_ the pain. Only then could he convert it into the anger he needed to win this battle. Because knowing and actually understanding, having comprehension seep through him, are two separate things.

Unfortunately, this was a sentiment not shared by the miniature Wyndam-Pryce currently knocking on his door, like he had every 10 minutes in an attempt to get him to start making plans.

"LEAVE ME THE_ FUCK_ ALONE, NICK!"

"Kurt, I would love to, and I understand what you're goi-"

The brunette yanked the door open, a dangerous glint the only thing giving his now-dull glasz eyes, currently an alarming shade of stormy dark gray, a splash of their usual vibrancy.

"You. Understand. Nothing. NOTHING!" His voice broke on the last word, and he was anticipating the sob he so desperately wanted to come bubbling up his throat. But it didn't. He didn't bother taking a deep breath before speaking again, because the last thing he wanted to be was calm. He needed to be riled up; needed that fire only rage can instill in him.

"Your honey is currently sitting on the couch downstairs, probably convincing my Dad to try some English fucking Breakfast tea with sugar and milk, while mine is out there causing all kinds of mayhem. Excuse me if I need a moment or two to myself in order to get myself together so I can kill the man I love." Were those tears pricking behind his eyelids? God, he hoped so.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, I am. None of us knew this would happen." There was sadness in his eyes, only a little, as most of Nick's expression was schooled into that steely professionalism he had been taught by his father. _Watcher's handbook, rule number one: never let your emotions guide your decisions. Or something like that._

"Save your sorries, give me two uninterrupted hours and I'll go out there and... do what I have to do. I just... Before I can do that, I need to die a little, too."

"No! Absolutely not. I will do anything I can, but I beg of you, don't lose yourself to this," the dark-haired young man started pleading with Kurt.

"Can you bring my boyfriend back?", the boy asked in a soft voice, barely more than a whisper. "Can you return my soulmate the very thing that made him just that? Can you give me a reason why I _shouldn't _lose myself aside from my sacred duty, which, to be quite frank with you, I have become _sick and tired_ of?"

Nick just soundlessly mouthed words. Bless him, Kurt loved him dearly, but if you looked up "emotional cripple" on Google, there would be page after page filled with Nick's pictures, and probably an urbandictionary entry as well.

"I thought so. Now, get out of here, get out of my sight and don't return until exactly two hours have passed or you will wish I would have let Blaine bash you in and rip your head off." His voice was devoid of emotion as he uttered the threat, like his insides. Kurt was well-aware of the fact that he was being tactless, that his newly-titled "ex" was very close friends with Nick, but he just couldn't give a fuck at the moment.

He needed to break down before he could build himself back up and bury Blaine under the rubble. The numbness had to fade, so some of the fight he was usually so full of could be restored. Digging out his journal, he thought remembering might be a good start. He read the first entry as memories started flooding his mind.

* * *

_**2 years prior: August 14**__**th**__**, 2011**_

It was just another night, which meant Kurt Hummel would be found at Lima's hottest place-to-be for teenagers, the Loch Ness. With his perfectly coiffed chestnut hair, his milky-white complexion, eyes that changed color from blue to green to yellow to gray depending on his mood, and being someone of excellent fashion taste and unwilling to compromise that part of himself, he had worked hard to perfect the art of blending in, just so nobody bothered talking to him. This was necessary, as it left the inconspicuous brunette free to do what he always came to do: observe. Also, Nick was with him and most people thought the older man with the dark-brown straight hair and brown eyes always seen around "the queer" was his boyfriend, which effectively disgusted the community of the small town in Ohio too much to attempt a conversation, or even want to be spotted in their general vicinity. If it didn't fit his cause perfectly, Kurt would probably be upset. But picking vampires out of the vast mass of moving bodies around him demanded concentration; concentration he didn't have when he had to talk to people and awkwardly try to let girls down easy or snap at homophobic assholes who had to maintain their tainted honor and assert their straightness, now that they had been seen with him, by putting him down in public.

"Look at those two," Nick whispered to him and nodded in the direction of a short guy with curly dark hair and a blonde girl. The guy was wearing a gray button-up shirt with a bottle green bowtie and a matching cardigan, paired with gray skinny jeans, which were rolled up so his ankles were showing, and green loafers without socks. The girl was dressed in a very cute black petticoat dress with red polka dots and her feet were covered by heeled black Mary Janes with red bows on the strap. They were dancing and twirling in total disregard of the song currently blasting through the P.A., "Low" by Flo Rida.

"Which one? They both kinda look like they escaped a 50's movie. Seriously, open a fashion magazine every once in a while," Kurt sighed as he observed the pair. "Or do you think they're a couple on the prowl?"

Nick slurped his drink, contemplating. "I'm not sure, I'm thinking it's more likely the girl is pure. He keeps whispering to her when he pulls her in and he's leading the dance. Look at their interaction, not just their clothing," the Watcher advised his charge. The latter simply rolled his eyes; the way he acted, people would assume Nick was 47 instead of 23. However, he was aware that this kind of behavior came with the responsibility the job held. Being a Slayer should put him right up there with his young Watcher, and Nick often marveled at how Kurt managed to maintain the attitude and, sometimes, immaturity of the 17-year-old he was.

"Stop trying to look at your brain, and stop thinking about how I'm way too serious for my age, and just do it. Shut out everything and focus all your senses on them. Then tell me what you see," Nick instructed him. And so Kurt did just that.

What he saw was... interesting. Yes, the clothes suggested they were both vampires. The way the man... well, boy... was openly flirting with the girl should have been suspicious, too, like Nick already pointed out. Only it wasn't, at least not the way it usually was. He had seen enough vampires seducing humans to follow them into some dark alley to know that either this guy had no game at all or had a different agenda; his beautiful hazel eyes didn't hold any traces of lust, the blood kind or any other. What irked him most, though, was the spark that shot up his spine and the warmth spreading through his entire body when he looked up and met Kurt's gaze for a second. _That is definitely new_, Kurt thought before focusing his attention on the other person dancing.

The girl had her arms around his shoulders now and was giggling, no, throwing her head back in laughter and coyly playing with her hair. For anyone around them, she was probably so obvious it was disgusting but then there were her eyes, too. And there was the malicious glint, the bloodlust he had been looking for, yellowing her irises ever so slightly for split-seconds only.

"Point for the Slayer while the Watcher has yet to score. She's the bad egg in the mix, not him. I don't know what he's playing at, though, because he doesn't find her alluring at all from what I've seen so far," Kurt informed the man beside him when suddenly, the guy grabbed the girl's hand and led her outside. "Shit," he muttered and jumped up, running outside, grabbing the stake hidden in his sleeve. When he reached the alley around the corner, a popular place vampires frequented with their prey, he heard the loud banging noise of metal on concrete, probably from trash cans being tipped over in a struggle if his experience was anything to go by, and then bone on stone.

Stake at the ready, he made to jump into the fight when he realized what was happening.

The curly-haired boy had the snarling girl in a headlock. Her once-beautiful face was now scrunched up around the nose and forehead and adorned with bumps, yellow eyes and fangs, exposing her true nature. When Kurt's gaze darted back to the boy, he saw an expression of calm focus, as opposed to the usual terror humans sported at the sight, as he repeatedly rammed the vampire's head into the brick walls enclosing the alleyway while she fought against his hold. He shoved her into the ground and stamped hard on her face; a crunch that would have been sickening to anyone not in the business echoed around them as her nose broke and she let out a feral scream. The guy then pulled a stake from the folds of where his jeans were rolled up and brought it down hard, piercing the girl's chest and heart and reducing her to rubble.

Dusting off his hands and clothes, he turned to a gaping Kurt, and smiled, and _wow, hello there._

"Hey, you must be Kurt! Thanks for checking up on me; I wasn't sure if I was as good at playing straight as I thought I'd be, and if she had caught on and led me into a trap, well, your help would have been greatly appreciated. But I guess I'm a good actor after all."

His voice was deep, but not overly so, and cheerful, and smooth like honey, and along with the unexpected turn of events and _that god-damn smile,_ Kurt was rendered speechless. Which was a rare occurrence. As in, it never happened. He prided himself on always having a sarcastic remark or two to spit out.

Nick chose that moment to catch up with Kurt, resting his hands on his knees as he doubled over in an effort to catch his breath.

"I'll never... smoke pipe... ever... again..." When his charge didn't give the usual snappy response, he looked up at the scene before him. Kurt was standing there, his mouth slightly open and eyes wide as he regarded the guy they had been watching earlier.

"Who – what - are you?", Kurt asked in a slightly shaky voice. The guy laughed jovially.

"'Who' is a good place to start. Sorry, I forgot my non-existent manners. Blaine Anderson, and I believe we are... colleagues." He held out his hand, and after a moment, Kurt hesitantly shook it. There was that tiny spark again, shooting up his spine at the contact, but he ignored it; there were more pressing matters.

"What do you mean? Do you mean you are..."

Blaine nodded. "A Slayer, yes," he clarified. "I was sent here because apparently, there have been signs of some major uprising. My..." He shuffled his feet and looked down, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft and vulnerable. "My Watcher couldn't get a clear interpretation of the signs before she was killed. But whatever it is, it is big."

A throat was cleared roughly behind them and both boys turned around to look at Nick, now back to his normal breathing.

"Another male Slayer? That's not possible. When Andrew Wells cast the spell, it was the original version the Shadowmen crafted, altered to fit a male subject, meaning there was a Chosen _One male _Slayer," he explained haughtily, looking down on Blaine with the arrogance it had taken Kurt weeks to decipher as an act. He assumed the curly-haired boy would shrink on himself like he had, but was further surprised and very impressed when he turned his nose up in answer and replied just as haughtily, "Yes, it is possible. Buffy Summers and Kendra, and then later, when Kendra was killed by Drusilla, Faith Lehane. Ring a bell? Wow, if I have to work with you, the Earth is doomed."

"Listen here, you brat, you _will _respect me!", the scorned man hissed. "I am well aware of Miss Summers' story, but Kurt never died! I don't know what your scheme is, and I'm not interested in finding out either, so you have two op-"

"Nick, hold on." Both men shifted their gaze towards Kurt, who in turn was looking down at the ground, wrapping his arms around his own chest. Nick knew that gesture of insecurity all too well by now.

"Kurt?" Upon hearing his name uttered in Blaine's already too familiar voice, the coiffed teenager raised his head, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Well, technically..."

Kurt never intended to tell Nick about this. He knew his Watcher would probably be devastated if he found out, even if things turned out fine, because he technically should have been there to prevent it.

"Kurt? Please, I need to know what happened and if we can trust that boy," Nick implored his charge, who swallowed hard before opening his mouth to speak. Blaine just looked at him with an unreadable expression; it ticked him off because he never had trouble reading anybody.

"Okay, first of all please, don't freak out. Nothing I'm about to tell you is your fault in any way." He closed his eyes for a second to collect his thoughts, then proceeded with his tale, including the stuff Nick already knew in order to clue Blaine in. No logical explanation sprang to mind as to why he trusted this guy he met not even 20 minutes ago, but living in the world he was a part of, you kind of learn to forgo logic and trust your instincts.

"Back when I was first Called... well, you both know the drill. There were the nightmares, the sudden burst of strength, increased agility and reflexes, heightened senses... But no one was there to explain what was going on to me, so naturally, I was freaking out." Addressing Blaine, he added, "My original Watcher was murdered before she could get to me and it took a couple of days for the Council to notice something was up and send someone new."

"I'm sorry," Blaine muttered, but Kurt just waved him off. He wasn't proud of it, but after two years of fighting and death, he was pretty desensitized.

"Thanks. It's not like I knew her, though – not that that makes it okay."

When the curly-haired teen smiled a little, his stomach did a weird flip. _Okay, I need to continue before I do something I'll really regret, like jump his bones right here, in this dirty alley, in front of Nick._ "Anyway, the second night, I had a particularly freaky nightmare and when I woke up, I was... thrumming. I had this energy and the fear only made it that much more potent, or maybe it was the other way around, I'm not sure. I sneaked out and started walking through the streets of Lima to the cemetery because I always feel the need to talk to my Mom when I'm upset. When I got there, I was attacked. There is a pond near the chapel, and someone pushed me into it face-first and held me down. I'm not too sure what happened after that, kinda dying makes your perception a little fuzzy around the edges." It was a feeble attempt at a joke; Blaine even chuckled briefly, but Nick was white as a sheet and appeared to be completely aghast by what his Slayer was recounting.

"So... you..." The dark-haired man couldn't seem to even form the words. If it hadn't been a year and a half ago, and Kurt hadn't gotten used to the fact that he was going to die an untimely death, and hadn't started counting himself amongst the lucky ones that he wasn't rotting away somewhere so far, he probably would be a blubbering mess now, so he couldn't really blame him. Plus, he had had his "I'm-not-coping-so-I-joined-the-Skanks-and-just-smoke-all-day-so-please-help-me"-phase. He still had the lip ring to prove it, though thankfully, no tattoos of Ryan Seacrest.

"Yeah, I died," Kurt confirmed quietly. "It couldn't have been more than a minute. I still don't know why I didn't stay that way, either, I just remember this weird brownish-green light and a woman saying something, I think it was in a different language. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. At first I was too scared to even allow myself to think about it, and then it just seemed kind of redundant to bring it up. I was thinking something like this," he pointed to Blaine, who was silently watching their exchange, "might happen, but I wasn't sure, and I didn't want to burden you. I'm sorry," he repeated, cautiously peering up under his lashes to check his Watcher's reaction; he anticipated a shit storm of some kind.

But Nick just slumped against the brick wall behind him and buried his face in his hands, wiping it, and then ran his fingers through his hair and held them there. Kurt stepped towards him.

"Hey, it's okay. Really, I'm fine, right? I couldn't annoy you half as much if I weren't," he tried to cheer him up, and his Watcher gave him a weak smile, which disappeared quickly though to be replaced by a pain-stricken expression.

"Kurt, you were dead. How can you be so flippant about this? Your heart stopped beating, your lungs stopped breathing, oh my God..."

The Slayer engulfed the man in a hug, mindful not to squeeze too tightly in order not to crush him, and he returned the embrace. "I'm alright, Nick, I'm alright. Stop being such a drama queen. You know it's serious when I, of all people, say that." This time, he actually got a tiny laugh out of him. The glasz-eyed teen called that a victory. They stayed wrapped in each other's arms for a while until there was some awkward shuffling and throat-clearing behind them.

"I hate to break this moment, but uh... Maybe we should get out of the dark alley and go, I don't know, somewhere they have appropriate lighting and coffee? And not anyone could walk in or by and overhear?" Blaine suggested carefully.

Cheeks heating up to reveal his trademark blush, Kurt pulled back and looked the other Slayer in the eyes, giving him a shy smile.

"Sure. We need to talk logistics anyway. We can go to my place, my father and step-mother are on a campaign in D.C., and my step-brother is at his girlfriend's house, so it's empty," he replied. The other boy nodded in agreement. Nick, however, seemed to be averse to the suggestion, judging from the frown adorning his face.

"Why not go to my house, where we don't run the risk of exposure?"

Kurt laughed out loud at that, and Blaine grinned at the sound. "Like I'd go to your place when mine is free! No offense, Nicky, but everything about your house _screams _'old person who doesn't know how to have fun', and my allergies are triggered by all the dust that comes out of those ancient tomes you keep digging out of God-knows-where. Also, I need to change, and I have no viable clothing options at yours. Neither does Blaine, for that matter."

Blaine nodded his consent again. "Yeah, I wasn't sure if there's a dress code at that stinky bar-club-hybrid-thing, which there painfully obviously isn't, but fuck, wouldn't I like to get out of these grandpa clothes, too." Kurt cursed himself for the mental images which popped up when he heard that and the blush which had _just _disappeared crept back up. "And maybe have a hot shower and stay in a bed where I don't have to occupy my time guessing the original shade of the sheets. There's so many so much better things to do in beds. Or what do you say, gorgeous?" Did he just wink at Kurt?! Wait, _gorgeous?_

Nick just spluttered indignantly at the insinuations as Kurt led the way to his car, his usually alabaster skin flaming red, and Blaine followed with a look of innocence that fooled no one.


	2. Should I Be Afraid?

**A/N:**** Thanks to Tariff for letting me know the upload was fucked up. I don't even know what happened, I hope it works now.**

**Chapter 3 might be a little while because I want to have 5 written before I post it, but I'll get to that asap :)**

**Thanks to the people who read this story, I really appreciate it :)**

**Without further ado, Chapter 2! I hope you like it!**

* * *

Luckily, Kurt's house was only a few blocks away and it wasn't too long before he was unlocking the door. Nick entered without a second thought but Blaine just stood awkwardly on the porch.

"Well?" he asked suspiciously as he stood by the doorway and waited for the other Slayer to pass the threshold. Why didn't he just walk in? Had he misread him? No one was getting an invitation into his home after dark, that much Kurt had learned over the past two years.

"Nothing, it's just... this is so nice," Blaine mumbled and walked past Kurt into the hallway, who let out an involuntary sigh of relief. The sound, unfortunately, didn't go unnoticed and Blaine smirked.

"Did you think I was some Oscar-winning vampire waiting for his invite?"

Kurt chuckled breathlessly and nodded. "Actually, yeah. It wouldn't be the first time I unintentionally invited one in." His admission was met by a wide, toothy grin and crinkled eyes and he hurriedly changed the subject before he could be mocked. "I believe you said something about coffee and a shower? You can use the one in my bedroom, I'll take the one that belongs with the master bedroom. NICK!", he added in a shout, "CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE SOME COFFEE? WE'RE GONNA TAKE A SHOWER!"

Blaine started snickering and Nick outright laughed from the kitchen.

"YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN! SEPARATE ONES! Assholes," Kurt cursed under his breath as he led the boy upstairs. He stopped in front of his bedroom door and swallowed.

A guy who wasn't his step-brother or Watcher was going into his room. Which has his bed in it. An, apparently, gay and extremely attractive guy.

"Kurt? Not that I don't like admiring the intricate patterns of your door, artfully hidden away by what I think is sheet music to every song from 'Wicked', but I'd really like to take these off. Fuck if I wasn't rather naked than wearing this crap." Blaine pointed at his attire. And then Kurt registered what he had said.

He was going to take his clothes off. He was going to be naked. In his room. The bearer of a penis that wasn't his own.

He let out a very unmanly squeak at the thought, at which Blaine started laughing again.

"You're fucking adorable, do you know that?" he said in a low voice and leaned against the door-frame, looking up at Kurt with a knowing grin. "Mind telling me where your mind wandered off to?"

The taller boy just shook his head like a wet dog to clear his mind. "No, really, nothing to tell, I just zone out sometimes," he explained nervously. "Uhh, yeah, that's a thing I totally do," he added upon seeing the skepticism in Blaine's features, and then proceeded to curse himself immediately after for that. Nice, tell the hot guy you seem to be crushing on and with whom you _might _stand a chance that you're a Class-A-weirdo. That won't scare him off.

Blaine pursed his lips, but the corners of his mouth twitched in what was undoubtedly another suppressed laugh. He cleared his throat and stepped into Kurt's personal space, crowding him against the wall.

"You know, the showers don't _have _to be separate. Save water, shower with a friend, all that crap?" he said in a sultry voice, his lips barely an inch from Kurt's ear. The latter shivered at the hot breath ghosting across his skin, and hated himself a little more for even considering for a second as he was assaulted by images; delicious, so delicious images, of the other boy's naked, olive skin, glistening as water cascaded down on them, in such stark contrast to his own milky white complexion.

"Uh, I-I don't know, m-m-maybe s-some other time," he stuttered and laughed nervously, moving to the side to go around the other boy.

"Alright. I'll hold you to that," Kurt heard Blaine tease before he shut the door behind him and made his way to his parents' bedroom to clean up as well.

He finished quickly so as not to let his mind wander back to the hazel-eyed teen and the suggestions his voice had held. He had to adjust the spray to the coldest setting as it was, and he didn't think he could look him in the eye ever again if he took care of his... arising problem, let alone focus enough to fight the forces of evil alongside him. He toweled himself off, rubbing his skin rigorously in an attempt to get some warmth back in case Blaine or Nick decided to touch him and find him ice cold, which, in his book, was a dead giveaway for "I just had to kill a particularly stubborn boner". Then he cursed himself again because he noticed he had forgotten to bring any clothes, at all, in his haste to escape the stirrings the other boy had caused in his belly. Hoping Blaine would try to enjoy a hot non-motel room bath for as long as he could, he knocked timidly before entering with the towel wrapped around his waist.

And almost let it fall.

Blaine was standing there looking through one of Kurt's drawers, his back to the door and humming quietly as he was looking for whatever. His hair was dripping wet and he was clad only in white boxer-briefs, which hugged his ass just so and _damn what did I just torture myself for, body? Control your urges! _

Kurt gulped loudly and that's when Blaine became aware of his presence, turning around unashamedly to smirk at him. "W-why are you going through my dresser?" the tall teen stammered and felt his self-loathing flare just a little more because of it.

"I was borrowing a shirt, forgot to pack one when I planned my excursion to the cemetery after that ridiculous club thing. I wasn't going to get teased by a fucking bloodsucker for what I was wearing there."

Kurt stared incredulously, having all but forgotten his and Blaine's state of undress. "Are you serious right now? You care about what vampires think of your clothing?" Not even Kurt had quite reached that level of vanity yet. "And why didn't you just ask?!"

Blaine, in turn, was looking at Kurt like he was slow on the uptake. "Yes? Of course I care. I want them to know I'm the biggest, baddest... anything in town. I want their hearts to beat out of their chests in fear when they think of me."

"They're _dead. _They don't even have a heartbeat anymore!" Kurt snapped back indignantly, the sound of which made Blaine smirk once again.

"Exactly. That's how scared I want them to be of me."

Kurt had nothing to retaliate with for the second time that day, so he just huffed and walked over to the dresser, pulling out boxers, sweatpants, and two soft cotton shirts, throwing Blaine one of them wordlessly. When he moved to return to the other bathroom once more to get dressed, he felt a hand curling around his hip before it trailed to his lower back, the fingertips trying to edge their way under the towel covering Kurt's privates. He jumped and yelped and turned his head to glare at Blaine. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he hissed. He was already sick of that arrogant bastard. And he'd seemed so nice at first, too.

"I was going to thank you. Oh well, if you don't want to..." The curly-haired teen mock-pouted and then resolved into laughter once more, surely at least partially induced by Kurt's flabbergasted and enraged facial expression. The taller teen just stormed out of the room and pulled on his clothes quickly, making his way downstairs to meet Nick in the kitchen. Thankfully, Blaine hadn't made it down yet, though Kurt couldn't shake the feeling that it was due to the fact that he was snooping some more.

"He needs to live at your place," Kurt announced without preamble, while Nick just eyed him like he was completely off his hanger.

"Uh, why?"

"He's going to need a place to stay other than some ratty motel, and food, and clothes, and you have a house completely funded by the Council. Besides, I can hardly go up to my Dad and tell him we're going to be housing a complete stranger who fights evil, which, by the way, is what I do every night he catches me out of bed, and oh yeah, I'm a Slayer." Kurt crossed his arms, daring Nick to argue with his reasoning because he knew it was flawless. They had a staring match until the Watcher gave in with a sigh.

"Fine, he can move in with me."

"Sweet!" they heard a voice call from the doorway, causing Kurt to have to resort to his Slayer strength in order to not roll his eyes. "Do you get cable? I haven't watched TV in ages."

"Hate to burst your bubble, honey, but he doesn't even own a TV," Kurt replied in a sickeningly sweet voice in lieu of Nick, who in turn shuffled awkwardly in his seat. The pale Slayer gasped in fake horror. "Nooo... No, Nick! No way! It can't be! You're shallow like the rest of us!"

"It's just... Just for educational purposes... The news... And so I know what the hell you're talking about most of the time."

Blaine plopped down, hard, in one of the kitchen chairs then. "This is all very sweet," he drawled, "you two make a very cute couple." His words caused Nick to choke on the sip of tea he'd just taken, and Kurt to emit a strangled, drawn-out "eurgh" sound.

"Ew, Blaine! That's like... That would be like incest."

"Really? Wouldn't have pegged you for the type, but whatever floats your boat, man."

"Oh haha, did you come up with that all on your own or did your great-great-grandmother, the Wicked Witch of the West, help you?"

"The Wicked Witch of the West is dead, Kurt, and she didn't leave behind any heirs," Nick cut in seriously, causing the other two boys to look at him, dumbfounded.

"Wait – she's real?" Blaine looked stunned. It suited him much better than that smug, arrogant, sexy little grin he sported when he teased him, Kurt thought, and then backtracked. Sexy? Sure, he's attractive, but personality is important to you, his conscience reminded him.

"She is. So I'm assuming you're fine staying at my house? I get the first shower, though," Nick quickly added, causing Blaine to groan.

"Man, you better not use up all the hot water, or I will use my divine... chosen... whatever powers to kick your ass to warm up afterward. Doubt it'll be enough of a fight for me to actually warm up, but you get the gist."

"I'll have you know I'm highly trained in all martial arts as well as-"

"Okay!" Kurt cut in. "So, what are we going to tell people who Blaine is? Your little brother is a little far off, you don't look remotely the same..."

"Thank God," Blaine muttered under his breath, causing both Nick and Kurt to glare at him. He had the decency to fake a sheepish look, at least. "Why do we need to tell people anything at all?" he inquired, instead of staying on the topic.

"Because they're gonna ask. This isn't the biggest town, and while there's always a few new transfers every year, you've already established that you just love to pull focus," Kurt remarked drily, causing Nick to chuckle.

"Transfer? New year? You don't expect me to-"

"Enroll and go to high school? Well, it's the best way to blend in. Besides, how old are you?" Kurt was curious now. He expected Blaine was probably older than him, but a year or two at most, so he could easily fit in at school.

What he didn't expect was Blaine awkwardly shuffling his feet and looking down at the ground when faced with the simple question.

"Sixteen," he finally provided. "Seventeen in February." Kurt tried hard not to gape. He looked so... mature. Not old or anything, but like he was well on his way to becoming a man, unlike him with his pudgy, red baby cheeks and freckles and high-pitched voice.

"Then you should be in school anyway," Nick piped up. "You're younger than Kurt. You haven't visited a classroom in a while, I presume, based on your reaction?"

"I have. I didn't run away until a few weeks ago, after school let out in L.A., but... I wasn't really planning on wasting my time with academics anymore." The curly-haired teen sighed in surrender. "I'll be a Junior come September, I guess," he relented.

Kurt groaned internally and sent a silent prayer to whomever was listening that they wouldn't end up sharing any classes. As if reading his thoughts, Nick spoke up again.

"Chin up, now! You might even share a few classes with Kurt! And I'm the librarian, so if there's anything you need, you can come see me anytime. It's not like a lot of students ever come in there." Kurt would have laughed at his sour tone if he hadn't already had to suffer through so many tirades about young adults not nearly reading enough.

"Alright. Look, can we talk about this tomorrow?" Blaine was clearly still uncomfortable. It didn't do anything to keep Kurt's curiosity from piquing. What was so bad about school? Sure, it was boring and didn't challenge him in the least, and before he became the Slayer, he was bullied a lot at his old school, and again once he transferred to McKinley, but once people realized he could knock them out with one punch after a nasty run-in with a jock twice his size named Karofsky, they'd generally left him alone.

"Of course. I should get going anyway. Do you want to stay here tonight or come to my house already?" Blaine glanced at Kurt quickly. "I'll stay for the night."

"You should, too," the pale boy advised Nick. "I don't want you out there alone at night. It's been ugly with the bumpies lately. You can take Dad's and Carole's room down here, as usual, Blaine can go into Finn's, I'll stay in my own bed." Kurt was deliberately placing Blaine in his step-brother's room, because he knew how much it stank of unwashed laundry and football equipment. It was mean, but he was convinced after earlier, the boy deserved to be punished just a little, and possibly put in his place, if such a thing were possible.

Nick agreed and shuffled off to get ready for bed, getting a change of clothes from Kurt as well while the boy in question showed his new coworker to Finn's room. As soon as he opened the door, the taller teen expected Blaine to start coughing and retching, but it didn't happen. Instead, he smirked, whispered a "good night, sweetcheeks" that shouldn't have sounded sultry, but did, and went to bed. Kurt assumed he had been toughened up by being on the run for so long. It didn't occur to him until he was lying in his own bed, all warm and snug, that he didn't know what Blaine was on the run from.


End file.
